


Hang

by AmaranthPrincess21



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Witchcraft, salem au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-25 23:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4980547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmaranthPrincess21/pseuds/AmaranthPrincess21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the Salem Witch Trials raging in Massachusetts, you realize that it isn't a safe place for your family to live, especially since magic runs in the family. But when Armin is charged with witchcraft, you and your family is stuck in the one place you shouldn't be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hang

**Author's Note:**

> I actually started this last year and I'm just getting around to posting it now.

"Have you heard? That slave Tituba, Sarah Good, and Goody Osborne have been accused of witchcraft!"

"I just came from the courthouse and Goody Corey, Goody Nurse, and Dorothy Good have been accused of witchcraft!"

"Goody Proctor and Goody Cloyce have been accused of being witches?!"

"Four more people have been accused of witchcraft. I just can't believe what Salem is coming too . . ."

"We have  male witches in our community? I feel so much pity for the Proctor children. Imagine having witches for parents."

Since January rumors and grotesque spectacles had haunted the small town of Salem. Now it was late May and the situation wasn’t getting better. You feared for your family and friends. If the most upstanding citizens of Salem were accused of witchcraft, no one in the village was safe. You weren’t very worried about yourself; you were worried for your children and your husband Armin.

Especially since he happened to be an actual witch.

It had been a nasty shock when you found out. You had come home to the broom sweeping the floor by itself and Armin cooking with the pots and moving by themselves. He assured you he was born with the powers and learned to cultivate them when he was young and had made no deals with the Devil. And with Armin being Armin, even though it went against what you had always been taught, you knew there was no way he could ever make deals with Satan or demons. You didn’t understand his powers, but you supported him. After all, he was the love of your life.

“Armin, children, I’m home,” you called out, walking into your home. The pitter-patter of tiny feet running on the hardwood flooring bounced off the walls as your children ran towards you.

“Mama!” your kids called out, all giving you hugs. You chuckled, getting on your knees and hugging them all.

“Hello, my loves. How is everyone?” you asked.

“Good, Mother. We’ve been helping Father around the house all day,” your oldest, ten-year-old Frieda informed you. “How is everything at court? Is cousin Mary really going back on what she said?”

“I don’t know what your cousin is doing,” you sighed in resignation. “I thought for a moment she was going to come clean and make everyone realize all this witchcraft business is nothing but lies. But, now she’s gone back and sided with the accusers.”

“Mary Warren’s with the accusers?” Armin walked into the room, your youngest child, two-year-old Bertolt in his arms. You stood up and took the baby from him, kissing your husband on the cheek.

“Yes, unfortunately. It looks like it will still be a long time until Salem’s back to normal,” you said.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here soon,” he said, rubbing your arm comfortingly. He glanced to your kids, giving them a warm smile. “Go wash up for supper, children.”

“Yes, Papa,” the kids said, Frieda herding her younger siblings out of the foyer.

“Do you think we should talk to them about what’s going on?” you asked Armin quietly. “Frieda and Reiner know they got magical powers from you, and Annie’s just getting to be that age where she starts showing signs. I think we need to sit them down and talk to them about this. And more importantly, I think we need to leave.”

“I agree, but not in that order,” he concurred. “I think we need to leave first and then explain. I thought we’d be able to remain safe here, but clearly everything’s getting worse. Let’s have supper and then have the kids pack up. My family is still in Britain and we’ll just have to stay with my parents for a while until we can get our own place.”

“They won’t find us there, right?” you asked.

“These people are crazy, no offense, but I don’t think they’ll travel all the way to Britain to find us,” he chuckled. “We’re going to be fine. The magic community there is very safe. But first, let’s eat something and then we’ll leave.”

“Maybe we should leave now,” you argued. “I don’t like staying here longer than necessary.”

“A few minutes won’t hurt. And the children shouldn’t have to make the journey on an empty stomach,” Armin said.

“All right, we’ll have supper, and then right afterwards we’re packing and leaving,” you said firmly. _My_ _, for such a kind man he can be so stubborn,_ you thought, going to a basin of water and trying to wash yours and Bertolt’s hands. But holding a baby and washing hands was a difficult task. The journey would last only a few seconds and then we’d be at his parents’ house and we could have supper with them.

“Mother, would you like me to hold Bertolt while you wash your hands?” Frieda asked, leading her siblings into the dining room.

“Yes, please. Thank you, Frieda,”  you said, handing off the two-year-old to her.

“Reiner, stop pulling your sister’s hair,” Armin scolded your eight-year-old son, catching sight of him messing with his sister Annie’s hair.

“She was hurting me!” he defended himself.

“No I wasn’t,” seven-year-old Annie protested calmly.

“Both of you stop this nonsense. You’re setting a bad example for Krista and Bertolt,” you reprimanded them, taking Bertolt from Frieda.

“But Mama,” Reiner protested. His voice faltered when you shot him a stern look. “Yes, Mother,” he gave in, taking a seat at the table next to Frieda. You took a seat at the end of the table, opposite Armin.

“Children, before we have supper we’d like to discuss something with you,” you said.

“What is it, Mama?” Little Krista asked.

“Papa and I feel like Salem is too dangerous a place for us right now. All of this witchcraft and legal proceedings isn’t creating a healthy environment to raise you all in. So, right after supper, pack up your things and we’re leaving,” you told them.

“Leaving to  _where?”_ Annie inquired.

“We’re going to live with Papa’s parents in Britain for a while,” you replied. Reiner and Krista looked extremely excited at the prospect of moving to a foreign land, Annie looked pathetic as usual, and Freida looked worried. You really couldn’t blame her; you felt the same.

“How long will we be there? And why can’t we just move up north?” she questioned.

“We feel like remaining in the colonies is too dangerous right now, Frieda,” you explained. “We don’t want to risk being dragged back into this, so we’re going to be moving to Britain permanently.”

“But what about the church? And our education? And Papa, what about your job?” she asked, large eyes filled to the brim with worry.

“Well, Frieda, I’m just going to have to find a different job,” Armin said. She bit her lip and nodded. You tucked her under the chin.

“Frieda, I know this is sudden, but it’s for the best,” you told her soothingly. “I know you had your heart set on school here, but there’s a very prestigious school your father attended there  and there’s a safe community near it that we can live in until these witch hunts end. Now, let’s have supper and then let’s go pay a visit to your grandparents, shall we?”

Despite the air of foreboding that preceded supper, the meal went very well. Reiner and Krista were extremely excited and couldn’t stop talking about how thrilled they were to see their grandparents for the first time. The meal was almost over when you heard a knock on the door. You handed Bertolt off to Armin as you went to answer the door. A few of the town officials stood on your doorsteps, their pasty faces gaunt in the fading daylight.

“Good evening, sirs. What brings you here?” you asked, voice struggling to not waver as nerves started to bubble up in your stomach.

"Good evening, Goody Arlert. Is your husband home?"

"Y-yes, he is. Is something wrong?"

"May we please come in?"  _Oh no. No no no no no._

"What's going on?" you demanded.

"[First], who's at the door?" Your body froze as Armin joined your side, Bertolt in his arms. "Good evening, sirs," he greeted them.

"Goodman Arlert, we suggest you hand off your son to your wife. You need to come with us," the tallest official said.

"I-I don't understand. Why do I need to leave and where are we going?" Armin questioned, putting little Bertolt into your arms.

"You've been accused of witchcraft, Goodman. Now come with us. We will not ask again."

"Armin would never practice such a thing!" you defended your husband.

"Goody Arlert, I'm sorry but he's been accused. This is all in God's hands now," the shortest official said.

"I can't keep up with five kids on my own!" you protested.

"[First], don't panic. This will all be cleared up and then I'll come home. You'll do fine with the kids until I come home. I love you," Armin said, his voice calm and soothing.

"I love you too," you sniffled. Armin was handcuffed by the men and led away. He spared you one last glance, mouthing, "Carry out the emergency plan."


End file.
